2003 Hindsight
I just counted. I saw 97 movies of 2003 in the year 2003. Yet another personal record.
I wasn't counting the whole way. By the last week of December, I guessed that I had seen around 70-something movies of the year. But then I counted. I'm amazed that I approached 100 movies of one single year, within the year itself.
OK, a couple of straight-to-video titles shouldn't count -- still, that leaves 95. Not counting the 11 theatrical movies I ended up watching on video, I saw at least 80 films on the big screen. That also means I wrote at least 80 full-length reviews. It's something for me to reflect on.
I honestly don't know if this will happen again. Let's just say I have other areas of my life that I'll need to concentrate on in 2004. Writing all those reviews last year took up just a little more of my time and energy than I would've liked. Therefore, my New Year's resolution for 2004 is to allow myself to actually write capsules during the year, instead of waiting until the year is over (or nearly over) to fall back on them. Capsules aren't bad -- the best critics out there use capsules regularly, so there's no shame in it. The amount of sanity I'll preserve should be well worth it.
Starting in February (I'm taking January off), I'll still try to write at least one full-length review a week. These reviews will likely be mirrored at ReelTalk Movie Reviews, as many of my reviews have been. If I see more than one movie for any given weekend, I plan to use capsules to cover them.
But enough about what's coming up in 2004. Let's remember 2003. I ended up liking a lot of movies this past year, and this may have a lot to do with my conscious effort to avoid movies I had a feeling I wasn't going to like, especially later in the year -- for instance, I retreated when I saw The Cat in the Hat coming, a movie I might have covered if I thought I had the energy. Truthfully, though, outside of the rare comical group viewing of something like From Justin to Kelly, I really do prefer to catch stuff I have a chance of enjoying. So, without further ado, here's what I enjoyed the most:
1. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
Some people say J.R.R. Tolkien's match-up is too black-and-white, with a clearly good side and a clearly evil side. I think there's more to see here -- the conflict isn't about the good guys being tempted with evil, it's more about how hard it is just to be good. The Return of the King illustrates this more strongly than the first two Lord of the Rings movies. Here, Theodon is asked to aid a country that did not come to help him earlier. Pippin learns to take responsibility for his actions. Aragorn leads his men to a suicidal scenario just to give Frodo the chance to succeed. And Samwise endures the most pain of all to do the right thing, as Frodo pushes him away in favor of Gollum. He's like the friend who won't give up until he's seen his companion beat a drug addiction. Being good isn't about resisting evil. It's about being good, no matter how often it would be easier just to give up. 10/10. Best hobbit: Sean Astin.
2. Kill Bill: Vol. 1
Kill Bill: Vol. 1 has been commonly criticized for being thematically shallow while lacking depth in its characters. It's easy to believe this because the movie puts on such a loud disguise -- bright visuals, jumpy narrative, rockin' soundtrack, and lots and lots of blood. But look closer. Look at Uma Thurman's face -- it says everything. It shows a conscious determination to be merciless because she knows if she thinks stray thoughts, she may falter. I've said it before, and I'll say it again -- in this movie, revenge is shown as the hard work that it is. It is not a noble goal, but, like so many other goals, it is an ideal; and, like every ideal, it can be undone by human foibles. The Bride uses discipline to channel rage into a cold focus. It's hard work. And, thanks to a splendid performance, you can see it in her face. 10/10. Didn't know she had it in her: Uma Thurman.
3. Finding Nemo
I just revisited Long Beach's Aquarium of the Pacific recently. It's a beautiful place, replete with wondrous sea creatures, from otters, puffins, and octopi to -- yes -- clownfish and blue tangs (also known as surgeonfish). It was during the holidays, so the place was crowded with families. I think I heard someone say the word "Nemo" at least once every half-hour; in front of a tank with the blue tangs, I heard "Dory" about once every two minutes. It gave me a thought -- we live in a world where adults lament what the kids mimic from tv and the movies. We worry about them learning violence and being exposed to sex. So it made me smile to know these kids around me watched Finding Nemo, and picked up some tidbits about marine life -- enough to recognize a clownfish when they see one. There are definitely positive ways to open up a child's curiosity -- we could use more movies like Finding Nemo. 10/10. Perfect at speaking whale: Ellen DeGeneres.
4. American Splendor
The first time I watched this movie, I was laughing like crazy in a lot of places. The second time I watched it, I almost cried. I think it really hit home that time -- I identified so strongly with the film's depiction of the healing power of art that it moved me. I loved how the characters continued to suggest making comic books as a way to deal with personal issues. And I loved how the movie made so strong a case for the comic book as an art form. For sharing this story with us, Harvey Pekar is as super as any hero who flew in the pages of a comic. 10/10. Best artist's rendition of Pekar: Paul Giamatti.
5. Winged Migration (counted as a 2003 release in the U.S.)
I really lament missing this movie on the big screen. It's such a visual wonder; its shots of birds soaring speaks volumes about the awesome beauty of nature, and what a truly limited space we humans occupy. If I had tv's as picture frames hanging on my wall in every room of my house, this is the movie that would be playing on them. 10/10. Most cheerworthy escape: a blue macaw frees itself from a cage in the Amazon.
6. In America
This film contains one of the most intense scenes I had to sit through in a while. The family attends a carnival where the father steps up to play one of those games where if you throw a ball into a hole in the wall three times, you earn your way up to a prize. It's set up in a way so the player can keep coughing up cash to throw another ball, paying double the last amount each time. Upon success, the player gets all his money back. Well, as you can imagine, this created a very suspenseful scene during which the father is pretty much ready to lose all his rent money to win an E.T. doll for his younger daughter. It's such a simple scenario, yet the execution was masterful, gripping. It was just a small taste of how effective this movie was in getting the viewer to hold tight to its emotional carnival ride. 10/10. Coolest sister act: Sarah and Emma Bolger.
7. Down with Love
Straight off of IMDb:
Barbara Novak: Another ruse, Catcher? You know I have no interest in seeing you.
Catcher Block: But you know you have to, and you know I know you have to. I'm sure you know how things are at KNOW ever since your new NOW.
Barbara: I have no way of knowing how things are now at KNOW. I knew how things were at KNOW before NOW.
Catcher: Then you should know now at KNOW things are a lot like they are at NOW, we have to interview every applicant for every job, and so do you or you'd be going against NOW's definition of discrimination and you wouldn't want the readers of NOW or KNOW to know that, now would you?
This movie shows how most movies today forgot how to put on a show. 10/10. She just rocks in retro: Sarah Paulson.
8. The Company
Dance can be an imposing, confounding beast. It's perhaps the most high-profile art that truly challenges formal logic in appreciating it. I attended a number of ballet performances this year, and, while watching, I tried to figure out what it was I was supposed to be looking for and enjoying. After some time, I realized that's exactly the wrong way to approach it. Dance shows off a lot of technical skill, but we shouldn't be as wowed by that technical skill as we should be by the use of the human body itself as an instrument of expression. To judge how skillfully a dancer performs is less rewarding than to just watch the dancer perform. And, as in any art, you get good pieces, bad pieces, and lots of variety in between. The Company is an essay about all of this, as well as about the dedication of a group of people involved in bringing this art to life. In other words, it's a dance movie that's actually about dance. 10/10. Favorite instructor: Malcolm McDowell.
9. Raising Victor Vargas
Until now, I haven't mentioned much about why I put these first nine movies -- all 10-out-of-10's for me -- in this particular order. I liked my top three the best, and then numbers four through nine are in an order so arbitrary I could easily swap their places randomly and still be happy with the list. Alas Raising Victor Vargas has suffered from being the one movie in the bunch that I haven't seen in the last three months. In fact, I've only seen it once almost a year ago, in February 2003 -- so here it rests at number nine. But I still remember what I loved about it. It treated teenagers like actual thinking people, and it gave us reason to believe they can develop responsible, independent, good-hearted centers to arm themselves with as they face a confusing world. And they still acted like teenagers. Like the grandmother in this movie, people often treat teens who have even slightly aberrant behavior or hobbies as creatures to fear and despair for. Raising Victor Vargas says otherwise. 10/10. He could go places: Victor Rasuk.
10. Rivers and Tides (full U.S. national release in 2003)
Finally, I got to number 10, which is the first and only movie in this top 10 list I didn't give a 10-out-of-10 to. I could've picked any of a number of titles -- Big Fish, Mystic River, X2, 28 Days Later, etc. I decided on Rivers and Tides because of how much I need to be reminded of its philosophy. This documentary is about an artist who not only is content to live in a world of change and impermanence, but also embraces it. And in this world where we can get so easily attached to things we don't really need, and where we increase our stress by creating and holding on to dear establishments, a message like the one Rivers and Tides gives is quite welcome. 9/10 -- although at this time I can't remember why it didn't get a higher score from me. The artist who knows flow: Andy Goldsworthy.
Thanks for reading, and happy new year.
©Jeffrey Chen, Jan. 3, 2004
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